11 Nico walked into his fishbowl a few hours later and threw his car keys and cell phone onto his desk. He pulled his jacket off, which felt a little tight around his shoulders and draped it over the back of his office chair. Either all his clothes had shrunk, or he needed to go on that diet Janet kept suggesting. Sitting down, he rested his elbows on his government-issue desk and rubbed his stubbly chin. A s**t day lay ahead of him. There wasn't any proper evidence against the young constable sitting in the holding cells below; most of the evidence he had was circumstantial. Even though he was guilty of theft and perverting the course of justice, he wasn't the killer. He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Louis. He needed to get all his thoughts down on paper; it was the only way he

